Tears of Oni
by oij
Summary: It's Devil May Cry featuring... Pokemorphs!? I bring you the acclaimed ToO, the first novel-length DMC piece here. This truely is a DMC fiction, however, not Pokemon. It's won awards for style, wit, and character on a big site. *Read and Review*.
1. Prologue

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PROLOGUE 

"Well begun is half done." (Aristotle) 

  


Allow me to start from the beginning. Before the Universe, there was an astral body known only as the Cosmic Egg. The Egg was a grand thing indeed and quite mysterious. One could question where it came from, but such a thought is beyond the slim understandings of such mortals as yourself.   
Well, as you could probably guess, the Cosmic Egg did burst. From it was born the Stars and the Planets that surround them, feeding off their heat...  
Also born from that Egg was the Creator. She was small, crafted by the Universe as the perfect being. Her eyes were large and luminous, her tail was long and thin and her pointed ears could pick up sounds unheard until that point in what mortals know as "Time". In theory, does sound even exist without ears for it to fall upon anyway? Bah. I ramble.  
The name of this small being was Myu. She flew down to a barren rock filled with nothing but an endless ocean. Her body slammed through the surface, seeding the rock, giving it warmth..._Giving it Life_! 

That place where Myu struck the rock, now known as Earth is called Gaia, the Lifestream and eternal soul of our living Planet. From the Gaia, came Lifeforms. Simple, uni-celled organisms. As time went along though, these organisms evolved and became more intelligent...As they grew closer to Gaia, their evolutionary processes were hastened into stages of life. The first records of such creatures belong to Omanyte and Kabuto, whose desires were answered and granted by Gaia.  
Omanyte, a fragile creature, desired to have better defenses against the claws of Kabuto and evolved to have a harder shell. This shell was heavier than the being itself, however, and limited mobility. Unable to swim or feed due to the weight of its shell, the newly evolved Omanyte, called Omastar, died.  
Kabuto set its sights higher. Much higher. Gazing upwards, it longed for life on land. Gaia granted Kabuto longer legs and thus, Kabutops was created. Kabutops began a long trend of life on land.  
As "Time" dragged on, some of the creatures of Earth became dissatisfied with terrestrial existence and took to the skies. The first to do so was Aerodactyl, the predator with the wings.  
By the time the last Aerodactyl and the last Kabutops were gone, Earth was filled with colorful Lifeforms. Everything from sentient grass-like creatures to beings of flame walked, flew, and swam upon it's surface. Each being well equipped to match its surrounding element. Aipom, a hyper-intelligent monkey lived in the area now known as the Amazon Rainforest. This curious creature found our Mother sleeping beneath a tree and pulled on her tail.  
Myu awoke and, as punishment, stripped Aipom of its natural abilities and made it into M'an.   
These erect, hairless apes; these freaks of evolution, eventually spread and diseased our world. Working beneath the guise of "science" they destroyed Myu's precious work. Through studies, they discovered how to contain matter in small areas built into the shape of a sphere. These balls were tested first on Myu's children. When M'an realized that these creatures could change multiple times in their life-spans and that they knew different ways of defending themselves, things changed.   
Myu's children were battled in illegal pits in the Underworld of the Cities of M'an. When law enforcement failed to control this, the pits became Gyms and the battling became a popular sport. M'an dubbed these creatures "Pocket Monsters" a damnable name originating from the matter containment units I mentioned earlier. It is a condescending title, to say the least.  
A team of scientists living on Cinnabar Island sent a number of their own to collect data in the Amazon. What they found was Myu. They sedated her and dragged her back to their labs. They even cloned her. In late September, Myu gave birth.  
They called the baby Myutsuu. Myutsuu had inestimable power and used it to his own advantage against M'an. He was angered that he was a mere clone and vowed he would destroy these senseless creatures along with the "Pocket Monsters" that followed them. Ironically, Myutsuu managed this by cloning followers of his own and setting up a Gym on New Island where only the greatest of M'an could face him. Slowly, Myutsuu's range of power spread and M'an became destroyed. Thus ended the reign of the Hairless Apes.  
Myu was satisfied. As a way of thanking Myutsuu for his purging of Earth, she gave him a piece of Heaven to rule over. Myutsuu in his rage, turned this piece of Heaven into Hell and his followers became deadly, demonic beings. He erected himself a throne of Dragonite bones, the Devil Throne, and granted himself a title...Mundus, King of Hell.  
Mundus' most loyal follower was a surviving Myutsuu named Sparda. As the Devil King's might spread over Earth, Sparda took up his blade on behalf of Civilization and banished Mundus for two thousand years.  
Sparda settled down in Manhattan with a mortal Myu, not *the* Myu, but a Myu nevertheless, and eventually bore two sons. Two sons.  
Virgil was the Second Born. He was a blue Myutsuu with white hair. Dante was the First Born, he looked like Virgil only black.  
And if Dante is going to relate to you the rest of this crazy, nonsensical tale, then he had better stop referring to himself in the third person. 

I am he, the son of Sparda. In this day and age, M'an is gone. But their mark remains. The Children of Myu walk upright and act as M'an acted. I hate to say this but we are rapidly making the same hideous mistakes as the Hairless Apes. Far be it for a Half-Demon to say this but it is true and the truth hurts. Although...it might not hurt as much as hanging upside down like this is...Gah, my head...


	2. Chapter 1: Neo Manhattan-A Guided Tour

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CANTO I-TRISH

The gates of Hell are open night and day;  
Smooth the descent, and easy is the way:  
But, to return, and view the cheerful skies;  
In this, the task and mighty labour lies.  
-Virgil 

  
**Chapter 1: Neo Manhattan-A Guided Tour**

The City is of Night; perchance of Death,  
But certainly of Night; for never there  
Can come the lucid morning's fragrant breath  
After the dewy dawning's cold grey air...  
-James Thompson 

If you are going to understand where my tale begins, then I am going to have to explain to you the city in which I live. It exists over what M'an referred to as "Mid" and "Lower" Manhattan. We call it "Neo" Manhattan.

Neo Manhattan is, and probably always will be, a living being in and of itself. Crime waves sweep the streets here on a regular basis. Prostitutes ply their trade in so many places that I, myself, have been mistaken for a male one more than once in the Bellevue Hospital Center.  
It is actually not surprising that they choose Bellevue. In many ways Bellevue is the heart of Neo-Manhattan, at least it is in my eyes. It lies on 25th Street and from its highest point you can barely glimpse University Square. The wealthy men and women live in Bellevue; their tall, elegant homes standing at a sharp contrast to the small, tilted houses built by Machoke "architects". High Hedge Manor is my personal favorite of these buildings, but I've never been inside. Figures, I suppose. 

Travel South and you may find yourself in the working-class area of town. This area is divided into Sector A, the Rainbow Xatu Sector and Sector B, the Yellow Shield Sector. Sector A is named "Rainbow Xatu" after an old-fashioned tavern that sits beside Tompkin Square Park. Actually, most of that sector is built around the Park. I suppose that most people find its quiet, serene gardens far preferable to the screaming sounds of the highways.  
Sector B, the Yellow Sheild, holds the old Edison Building and a considerable portion of Rutherford Plaza. I keep my distance from here as much as I possibly can. It mostly consists of a major intersection just East of the Edison Building and branching from there, so many tiny streets that they don't even have their own names. Instead, they are identified by number, like E17th Street.  
Actually, E17th Street is the most noticeable little street in the Rutherford Plaza. It reaches long and holds, to its immediate South, Union Square. 

Washington Square Park is bigger in size than Tompson Square, but holds nothing of beauty. Instead of gardens, Washington Square has an endless sea of debris that flows down into the intestine of the leviathan; the sewers. It exists within the Ye Bitten Growlithe Sector of Neo Manhattan. It is here that I have the misfortune of living. As you could probably guess, Ye Bitten Growlithe is an unpleasant place to live. There are so many homeless people here that their unwashed stench permeates the air and angers my delicate senses. Not that my place is anything other than a hole in the wall of W8th Street. I keep it as clean as I can without driving myself mad. My sector of town lies in the upper portion of what M'an affectionately dubbed "Greenwich Village".  
Traveling down through Bowery Cooper Square and 4th Avenue a casual hitchhiker such as yourself would find a massive knot of streets and highways such as Chrystie Street. It is quite a ways before one would encounter any particular landmark. I suppose the first place of interest would be the First Romanian American Congregation on 89 Rivington Street. I've never been there myself.   
At the far, southernmost end of Porsyth Street which glides just past Rivington lies the infamous Chinatown. Here, you had best know a few words in the Indonesian and Mandarin tongues, or, have the knowledge of how to flash fry an onion in ten seconds. I enjoy spicy food and drive down there quite often. Tea Garden has an excellent variety of Chinese food, but keeps it American enough that my tongue can identify chicken from watercress. 

The lower-most portion of Neo Manhattan is by far the busiest. Coming down on 105 Chambers Street, a hungry Jewish family could grab a bite to eat at Mizrachi Kosher Pizza. I hear it is a good place, but I've only been there once and cannot make a personal judgement on the matter.  
Traveling down Trinity Plaza will bring you, ultimately, to 55 Water Street. It is here that I've been known to park my car and walk off to where the highways intersect at Battery Park. This position allows me to gaze across the waterway at the foreboding image of Mallet Island.   


There is far more to be said on Neo Manhattan, but anything else at this point would overflow your mortal brain. Take in what I have said, you may visit one day.


	3. Chapter 2: Devil May Cry

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Chapter 2: Devil May Cry 

"Women have the right to say: this is surface, this falsifies reality, this degrades."-Tillie Olsen 

Why are we here? When did the hands of "Time" first begin to turn? Why do we hurt one another?  


If anything, Life is an enigma. It changes constantly like a cosmic web collapsing and folding upon itself.  


Everything, from the tiniest breeze to the schools you attend affect your life in some way or another. And, thus, unless you live in a bubble, people are major factors in your life. Anyone you allow into your life, anyone you interact with, will change you.  
I have a neighbor, the shin-kicking Quilava, Mandarin. She told me that once, when she was twelve, she was skipping through Washington Square Park and happened to collide with an old Wobuffet woman. Well, that old woman scolded her intensely and was interrupted when a car skidded around the corner and flew into the Park, splintering an innocent tree. If Mandarin had not collided with that Wobuffet, she would have collided with something far more monstrous. 

So, you see, anybody we meet can and does change our lives. It is the Butterfree Effect, simply put. When a Butterfree flutters its wings it can cause a typhoon over in India. The Earth and the Universe and all things hang in such a precarious balance that this is undeniably true. Take away the Butterfree and what becomes of India's climate?  


Sometimes, a person noticeably changes your life, sometimes the affect is far more subtle.  
It was Trish who changed my life. She blew into my sphere of existence one dark night, bringing with her the flames of Hell and about $50000 dollars worth of property damage... 

...~... 

"Devil May Cry" was the affectionate title I gave to my private investigation business. Its offices were located on the bottom floor of my apartment on W8th Street. I was not a PI in the archetypal sense; I investigated the supernatural. Prizes obtained from my work were scattered throughout my office on the day my life changed.  
The east wall held a rickety old door that led down into the basement which was filled with old boxes and exotic relics and weaponry. Mounted beside the door was Force Edge, a sword passed down from Sparda. It was a lovely weapon with a gleaming blade and an ornate hilt, but, still...just a sword. Swords were not exactly the greatest means of defense in Neo Manhattan. That was all I knew about it. I never met my father and my brother and mother were taken from my life years ago. I could not remember how they died, that memory was repressed, it lay dormant somewhere in the back of my mind. All I had left of my childhood was Force Edge and an amulet. The amulet I speak of hung tightly about my neck, the pendant fell to the hollow of my throat. I never took it off. It was a curious pendant; the perfect likeness of the bottom half of Yin-Yang, the Tai-Chi symbol. My half represents the evil in good, but I digress.  
The window across from my desk was stained and could barely be seen through anymore. I never bothered to clean it and I am a cleanly person. It was too much of a fuss. The air of Neo Manhattan was polluted. When the spring came this polluted air mingled with fog, turning it to a sickly, yellow color that left oily droplets on the windows.  
Perpendicular to this wall was the entrance doorway; a simple, gray door. Beside it, an amber-topped cane. I received this cane from a Nyuura who was a one-legged prostitute. She demanded that I investigate her hotel room as she was convinced it was haunted. It wasn't. There were mice in the walls of the old building. She apologized solemnly and offered her services as a payment. When I turned down her offer she insisted I take her cane. Myu only knows how she's moving around now without it, but that Nyuura was a resourceful woman. I'm sure she found a way. And then, my desk. At my desk was a laptop computer and a phone and, more often than not, me.   
I was the brightest thing to be seen in Devil May Cry. Around the office I wore my trench-coat which was the same fiery red color as my eyes. I really stood out.  
Now, in this unbelieving, modern world it was hard to find work. Usually I took a snack down to my office, cat-napped a little bit, then surfed the Internet and went back to bed for the night. 

I was curled up at my desk, cat-napping with my lap-top running. It was after-hours and I was too lazy to climb the stairs just then. The phone rang.   
"Mnnnn" I stretched my tail and, without even looking up, reached out a hand and started groping for the phone. When my fingers finally wrapped around it, I lifted it to my ear and answered in the most unprofessional way.  
"Whhhooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaa-ahem. Devil May Cry."  
A female voice, dripping with the honey of a southern accent, replied from the other end.  
"You are Dante, am I correct?"  
"We're closed."  
I slammed the phone down on the receiver and decided it was time to go upstairs and snuggle up with my blanket. Lifting my head was a chore, every muscle in my neck creaked and moaned in complaint as I moved, blinked, and attempted to readjust my eyes to the moonlight leaking in through the yellowed window. It was one of those crazy moments. I wasn't asleep, but I certainly wasn't awake either.  
So tired was I that I didn't look up when I heard a sudden, rendering crash from about five feet to my left. So tired was I that it seemed perfectly normal to see a white Myu with blonde hair sitting on a motorcycle in front of me. Here. Indoors. I blinked and noticed I could smell smoke. I blinked again and thought I saw my mother. It took several more such blinks for me to realize that some strange woman had just driven a Harley Davidson through my wall.  
"We're closed," I cooed matter-of-factly, and yawned. "But if you want to use the can it's in the back."  
She stepped off the motorcycle and looked imperiously down her nose at me. I couldn't remember my mother that well, but something about this woman struck me with sudden deja-vu. She was fairly tall, with short, white fur and long, golden hair. Her blue eyes flickered with something more than mortal and her outfit was skimpy to say the least. It was black leather and hugged her frame.  
"Dante, I presume?" Her voice dripped with southern honey. It was the voice from the phone.  
"...I....I think so," I jabbered idiotically, "Yeah, that's me."  
She sat down on my desk and looked over me with an approving gaze. "I am Trish."  
My head rolled forward on my breast, I was very close to becoming comatose.  
"Zzzzzzzzzz...."  
"WAKE UP!!"  
"I'M AWAKE!"  
She sat back again and snorted as she dismounted my desk. "You are the son of Sparda, right?"  
".....ZzzzzzZzzzzzz..."  
"RIGHT!?"  
My eyes snapped open again, "I was just resting my lids, woman!...Yeah, I am the Sparda of son....Wait a minute...."  
The Myu rolled her eyes and took a few steps back towards her motorcycle.  
"Then you must be good with a sword."  
I wondered if she was mad. Nobody used swords anymore, they hadn't since gunpowder was declared as a good idea.  
"Not actually, I-"  
Trish's eyes started glowing in such a way that made my fur crawl. A shimmering aura of flame and electricity surrounded her, casting an eerie glow around my office. I shielded my face from the bright light and suddenly was aware of a swishing noise. When I looked up I saw something that I didn't see everyday: A Harley Davidson flying at my face. I squealed. My first impulse was to duck under my desk and quiver in fear for the next hour or so but, instead, I pulled out Ebony and Ivory, my .45s and pressed down on their triggers.  
"Time to go to work, boys," I muttered, my voice drowning beneath the sound of the motorcycle being pumped full of bullets. The back attack succeeded for the most part as the bike-turned-missile exploded in the air before it could connect with my person and fling me backwards through the wall into Mandarin's house.  
As the pieces of scrap metal rained down to the floor, I turned and grinned smugly at Trish. That was when the carburetor fell from the air and struck me between the ears.   
"This has to be the frellin' weirdest thing that's ever happened to me...."  
I went out like a light.


	4. Chapter 3: Myutsuu On a Hot Tin Roof

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Chapter 3: Myutsuu On a Hot Tin Roof 

"Morning, a glass door, flashes  
Gold names off the new city,  
Whose white shelves and domes travel  
The slow sky all day.  
I land to stay here"  
-Philip Larkin, "Arrival" 

Two Myutsuu brothers in their huddled sleep, two heaps of fur made one, twitch their ears and whimper....Do they dream the same dream? 

Brother? Where are you? M-Mother? 

....~.... 

I awoke curled in the fetal position in the middle of a lump of soft, feathery fabric. A bed?  
There was a hollow sound coming from nearby. The sound of footsteps across a wooden floor followed by the rustling of a shutter being opened. I decided that this was just the maid and nestled deeper into my bed.   
Then it struck me... 

I didn't have a maid! 

My eyes snapped open and I sat bolt upright. The room looked empty. Tapestries, depicting the scenes of Sparda's victories and saturated with the odor of my cigarettes, flapped in the breeze caused by the open window. Slowly, I turned my head. Trish was sitting there on a trunk filled with my underwear. The morning sun halo-ing her golden hair, making her look like a Heavenly Being, rather than a Demon.  
"Sleepin' Beauty awakens."  
"Shut up." I looked down at myself. I was still fully dressed, my guns were even still in their holsters.  
"So that's what I was sleeping on," I muttered. Trish rose and walked towards the door.   
"Come on, hon. Breakfast might be ready."  
"Breakfast?"  
I half-slid, half-tripped out from under my sheets and followed Trish down the stair well into the kitchen, which was filled with the smell of burnt eggs. 

My kitchen was in the worst possible place; right next to the bathroom. It was a small room with a low refrigerator, a few cabinets and a gas-powered oven. To the left of the oven was the bathroom. Devil May Cry was on the far end of the crapper, so to speak.  
I nearly had a heart attack when I saw a slim, female Quilava in a red tank top standing over the oven. Her head flames were unusually high, like a Mohawk's and she was staring daggers at the stove top where what might once have been an omelet was burning and spitting its feeble life to an end. It was as if she thought she could psyche it out by glaring at it. Convince it to cook properly.  
"Mandarin!?!?!"  
She turned her head and gave me the same venomous look.  
"Dante!?!?!"  
I curled my tail and hissed at Trish. "What is SHE doing here!?"  
Mandarin crossed her arms over her slim chest and scowled, completely ignoring the fact that the omelet had burst into flames.  
"Is this the thanks I get!? For Myu's sake, Dante! Forgive me for being curious about my neighbor's wellbeing when I hear that he was hit on the head with a friggin' motorcycle!"  
"Carburetor," I corrected her.  
"WHATEVER!"  
"Well," Trish interrupted our little conversation, checking her watch. "Dante and I need to talk, Mandy, so-"  
"What?" Mandarin hooked a claw at the Myu, "Oh no you don't, you bimbo! And you call me 'Mandy' one more time and I'll Flame Wheel you so fast that it will make your head SPIN!...Ahem. Anyway, I'm not going anywhere until I make YOU," she pointed at me, "an omelet!"  
"....?...."  
"No!" I squeaked, "Not after the LeValle Dinner Party last year....I trust your cooking about as far as I can throw Wyoming."  
The Quilava screwed her eyes shut and trotted away from the oven. I took advantage of the situation to run over and cover the grease fire up with my palms. It hurt like Hell but I extinguished it.  
"Okay," sighed Trish. "I give in. What happened at the Dinner Party?"  
I stuck my hands into the sink and attempted to rub out the horrible burning sensation.  
"Mandarin happened," I hissed, "She slipped laxatives into the chili!"  
Mandarin, who by this time had crossed the kitchen and was standing by the bathroom door, blinked like a HootHoot in daylight. "You're never going to let me forget that laxative crack are you?"  
"No," I gazed over my shoulder at her. "We Demons aren't very forgiving...," my eyes watered, "Trish...it burns...."  
"I suppose we should eat something," sighed the Myu. "Anyplace that you would suggest?"  
"There's a Shorty's down in Bowery Cooper Square..."  
She cocked her head to one side as Mandarin disappeared through the bathroom door.  
"What kind of food does it serve?"  
"Mexican." I turned and dried my palms off on my trench-coat. "Where is Mandarin going?"  
"Well...When you gotta go, you gotta go."  
"Myu's body!"  
I charged the bathroom door and swung it open. The bathroom had two doors to it; one leading into the kitchen the other into my office. The latter door was open and past it, I could see Mandarin lounging back at my desk.  
"MANDARIN!"  
I stormed through with Trish in my wake. The office was well illuminated, mostly due to the several unwanted skylights that Ebony and Ivory had made in the ceiling and the alternative entrance provided by Trish the night before. I was now able to see how completely trashed everything was.  
The phone rang. Mandarin leaned over and picked it up, spoke into it, "Hello, Devil May Cry, we solve mysteries of the supernatural so you don't have to, can I help you?"  
I reached out to snatch it from her but she hung up.  
"What the-"  
"Board of Health," she smiled, "The Surgeon General says he knows about the termites."  
"Huh?"  
"Well," Trish grabbed the cane and the Force Edge and ducked out through the hole in the wall, "I'm going."  
"Wait! What do you need those for?"  
"I don't travel light."  
Mandarin gave me a perplexed look and said, "I thought we were just going to get something to eat."  
"Oh no!" Trish ducked back in again, after loading the weapons into my truck. "_Dante_ and I have something to discuss. It does not concern YOU!"  
The Quilava put her feet up on my desk and I noticed my lap-top was missing.   
"Somebody stole my computer...."  
"I'm coming," said Mandarin firmly. "It's not like I have a college paper due or anything."  
"Guys...my computer is MIA here...do-"  
"This is not the business of mortals, Mandarin! The information I have is for no other ears than those of a Sparda!"  
"You can't shake me! I have the bite of a Totodile."  
"Whaaaaaa! MY COMPUTER WAS STOOOOLEEEEENNNN!"  
"YOU'RE NOT COMING AND THAT'S FINAL!!!!" 

...~... 

Shorty's was a pleasant Mexican restaurant. It was decorated with old-fashioned models of toys and machinery mounted on the walls. Even the clock was illuminated in a most retro style. All around were men and women simply enjoying a day off to be with each other.  
A young Dragonite smiled and escorted Trish, Mandarin and myself to our seats. The table was beneath a rather remarkable display of an old-fashioned Harley Davidson.  
"...Er..."  
The escort blinked at my discomfort. "Something wrong, young one?"  
"Yeah...I don't wanna sit here."  
"Why not?" asked Mandarin, "you've sat here before."  
"I know; but I don't like it."  
The Dragonite rolled his eyes and brought us across the aisle to another table. Everybody nearby glanced at me with the same, detached curiosity often reserved for people who make a spectacle of themselves in public. I blushed as I sat down.  
"Now," Trish leaned forward and looked me sternly in the eyes. "Dante, have you ever heard of Mundus?"  
"A little bit" I said. I could only associate the name with stories at the time.  
"Mundus was the Devil King of Hell. Twenty years ago-"  
"That's when I was born!" I cried excitedly.  
"Would you shut up? This is serious!"  
"...."  
"Now, Sparda, your father-"  
She groaned when she was interrupted by the sudden arrival of a Dewgong. She wore glasses and a dark dress. Her blue eyes were hidden beneath glasses and the name "Lorelei" was written on her breast tag.  
"Hello, I'm Lorelei Kanna and I will be your waitress for the morning. Can I start you off with something to drink?"  
"Yeah," I said. "Anything with alcohol, please."  
She nodded and scrawled something down in her notebook. I craned my neck to see what it was.  
"I'll have coffee," said Mandarin.  
"We're out."  
The Quilava blinked. "Margarita, then."  
Trish was too busy smacking her forehead against the table to place an order. I looked to Lorelei. "Best just get _her_ an orange juice."  
The Dewgong nodded and walked away. "Like I was saying," hissed Trish. "Mundus is reawakening. He hopes to reopen the Gates of Hell on Mallet Island."  
I smiled at Mandarin, who looked genuinely confused. Then I smiled at the rest of the restaurant just incase they had overheard our conversation.  
They hadn't and they just wondered what I was smiling at them for.  
"So," said Mandarin, "Does this have anything to do with my forgetting to do the tax returns?"  
"No," sighed the Myu, "This is much bigger than that."  
"I have jury duty!?"  
Lorelei appeared once again with our drinks and set them on the table.  
"Dante," said Trish as I sipped at what was apparently Jack Daniels, "What would you say if I told you that the world was about to end and plunge into the Seventh Circle of Hell?"  
I shrugged. "I dunno. Why? Does it seem like something you would say?"  
She looked for a moment as if she was about ready to rip my head off. Then she gave up.   
"Never mind. Just finish your drinks. Our next stop is Battery Park."  
"But that's five hours away," Mandarin whined.  
"Hardly matters. What, with the world ending and all."  
I smiled at the restaurant again. Some old Arbok waved a dismissive hand at me, telling me to mind my own business and to stop smiling at everyone.  
"Dante," Trish sighed, "You are Gaia's last hope..."


	5. Chapter 4: The Story of the Trials of Th...

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Chapter 4: The Story of the Trials of Thunder and Flame 

"Rumble thy bellyful! Spit, fire! Spout, rain!  
Nor rain, wind, thunder, fire are my daughters.  
I tax you not, you elements, with unkindness;  
I never gave you kingdom, called you children."  
-William Shakespeare, "King Lear" 

I honestly didn't care how close to destruction we were as a culture. Hell could not possibly have been worse than a traffic jam in the middle of 4th Avenue.   
Trish was behind the wheel of my pick-up truck with a placid grin on her face. Beneath her dark sunglasses, however, I was certain that her eyes were narrowed into slits of rage at the idea of being interrupted yet again.  
I was curled up in the seat next to her with my forehead pressed against the window, far too confused to operate a motor vehicle. By lifting my gaze towards the rear-view mirror I could see Mandarin, the unshakable Quilava, in the back, flailing about with Force Edge.  
"What happened up there?!" hissed Trish, slamming her fist against the steering wheel. "Is it so friggin' difficult to just clear a part of the road! The world is at stake here!"  
An old Yadoking trudged past us on the street, leaning into a walker. After a few long minutes, he had progressed quite a ways down the street. Wherever he was going, he would get there long before we would get to our destination.  
"It must be Sunday," I muttered under my breath, "I never could quite wrap my mind around Sundays."  
Mandarin turned about and rapped on the window behind me. I casually turned around and opened it.  
"What's up, babe?"  
She grinned mischievously, "Not much...'babe'.... Are we there yet?"  
"NO!" It was Trish who yelled. "We would have been there by now if we had just friggin' WALKED!"  
"You hear that?" I said softly, "The pretty lady said we're not there yet."  
"Tell me a story, Dante." Mandarin started crawling through the back window, her tail flames coming up into Trish's face.  
"!?!?!"  
She backed through as cautiously as her personality would allow and sat quite imperiously on my lap for want of any other place to sit in the front. Trish's lap was ill advised.  
I blinked.  
"A...story?"  
Trish slammed the heel of her white palm down on the horn, blasting it. The sound rose in chorus with car horns around us.  
"MOVE!"  
I looked down at Mandarin. "What story?"  
"A raunchy one about you and Trish!"  
"Huh?"  
The Myu rubbed her nose. Thankfully, she hadn't overheard that.  
"How about a story on the Titans."  
"Whatever," The Quilava flicked her wild head flames back from her face.  
"Like I really give a sh*t." 

...~... 

"It was aeons ago, after the extinction of M'an, that the Five Titans sought to spread their power.   
"Houoh, that was indeed her name, and how the Hairless Apes came by that knowledge I'll never know, was the Titan of the Soul. Her and Lugia, the Titan of the Mind, used their powers to try and stop the other three Titans from destroying everything in their quest for domination. On the Island of Ice, near Japan, Isa was nestled in sleep. Her silver feathers glistened like newly fallen snow.  
"'Khra! Awaken, woman!' It was Efreet who roused her. 'Hast seen my nemesis?' Isa waved her arm to the Titan of Fire. 'I have not. But dost this help thee aught?' She handed Efreet a note, written in Lugia's elegant hand. 

Alastor, Efreet, thy battle in our skies has gone far enough. I beseech both of thee, see myself and Houoh at once at the Ruins of New Island.  
-Lugia 

"Efreet burned the note into cinders at his fingertips and flew off towards the Ruins of New Island. We now refer to that island as Mallet.  
"Let me say this before I continue: Alastor the Titan of Thunder, also called Zapdos, and Efreet, the Titan of Flame, also called Moltres, had been dueling for many millennia over which of them could control the Western Hemisphere. For it was there that Mundus had been at the peak of his power.  
"Once he arrived at New Island, Efreet found that Alastor was already waiting for him. Houoh and Lugia stood at the top of the highest spire of Mundus' Castle.  
"'Alastor and Efreet,' shouted the Queen, 'Our world is not big enough to hold two Thanes for the Western Hemisphere. My husband and I have arranged three trials! The first to complete these trials gains control over the Territory.'  
"'And,' added Lugia in his deep, resonating voice, 'The Titan who doth not win shalt be punished.'  
"Alastor stood proud and thumped his chest, 'I am ready for anything, Holiness!'  
"Efreet, never one to allow himself to be outperformed nodded and said, 'Same for me!'  
"'Very well,' Houoh studied them through her kaleidoscopic eyes. 'Thy challenges are as follows: Retrieve the Phantom's Eye, the Shadow's Orb, and the Spear of Shatter Glass.' She gestured towards the Tower beneath her.  
"'All items can be found...within...'  
"Efreet and Alastor glared at each other and glided through the doors into the heart of the ancient Myutsuu structure. Once within, they parted ways. Efreet marched down into a cavernous hallway lined with tapestries. Something moved out of the corner of his eye.  
'Who art thou!?' he cried and spun upon the figure. It eluded him. 'I know thou art there!' It emerged with the fluid movements of a panther, the burning eyes of a Gengar.  
"'I am Shadow,' it purred like distant thunder. 'Thou art here for my Blue Orb?'  
"'I am,' Efreet's hand burst into flames, 'Now, hand it over or die!'  
"'I think not,' hissed Shadow, 'It is thou who shalt perish!'   
"The creature leapt into the air, its body shaped itself into a spear that lunged for Efreet's breast. The Flame Titan darted aside and raced towards the Blue Orb, which lay on the ornate altar down the hall. And was too late. At that moment, Alastor burst in in his electrical glory and flung lightning bolts at Shadow, causing the beast to disperse into the darkness once more.  
"'Step aside, Efreet! The Orb is mine!'  
"Both Titans reached for the Orb at the same time and wrestled each other over it. This fight inevitably ended with the Shadow's treasure falling and shattering into four pieces on the floor.  
"'Now how shall we finish the Trials?' asked Efreet hesitantly. Alastor huffed and stormed back out the door. Efreet, without any other option, followed him.  
"Lugia greeted them at the door. 'Hast completed the Trials Three?'  
"'We couldn't,' growled the Thunder Titan, 'Efreet broke Shadow's Orb. Now what?'  
Lugia shifted his weight and repeated his warning. 'The Titan who doth not win shalt be punished.' He lifted his wings and a blade of lighting shot from the sky and struck through Alastor's bosom. The Zapdos screamed as his soul was infused with the blade.  
"'I will conquer thee one day! All of you!' he cried, 'The weak shall give their heart and swear their eternal loyalty to me!' And he wasted away. All that was left of him was a statue, leaning to one side in pain with a blade through its heart. That blade gleamed with a life of its own.  
"Efreet shuddered and drew back a few steps from what had once been his rival. Chains shot from the ground with a metallic rattle and wrapped themselves around the Flame Titan's strong arms. With a single tug, they tore Efreet into pieces. His arms fell to the ground wrapped in the metal chains.  
"Efreet and Alastor, once great Titans, reduced to a sword and a pair of gauntlets due to their own greed and pride.  
"May we learn from them, Blessed Myu, and not repeat their mistakes.  
"Amen" 

...~... 

By the time I finished the story I felt like taking another nap and we had progressed forward roughly five feet.  
A Meowth moved past up to us, dressed in a police uniform and directed us down Chrystie Street.  
Trish's head snapped up. "Movement?"  
She spun the wheel and nearly ran the officer over as she took off in the indicated direction.   
"I'm going to die of whiplash before we even get to Mallet," I groaned.


	6. Chapter 5: Welcome to Battery Park

****

Chapter 5: Welcome to Battery Park 

"A route differs from a road not only because it is solely intended for vehicles, but also because it is merely a line that connects one point with another. A route has no meaning in itself; its meaning derives entirely from the two points that it connects. A road is a tribute to space. Every stretch of road has meaning in itself and invites us to stop. A route is the triumphant devaluation of space, which thanks to it has been reduced to a mere obstacle to human movement and a waste of time"-Milan Kundera, Immortality 

I must be honest. During that trip to Battery Park, Trish had to put up with a lot. I was a Demon, Mandarin was a bitch, the Myu had to cope. During the hour or so after pulling out into Chrystie Street I entertained myself by tapping out rhythms on every available surface with my tail. Mandarin, sitting in my lap, tugged the chewing gum out of her mouth in long strands and wrapped it around her pinky.  
A while later Trish became weary and pulled over. Mandarin climbed into the back of my hideous rust bucket of a truck once more and I took the wheel. Trish took the wheel back again when I began to honk and wave at complete strangers. I think I might have also left the turn signal going for about ten or so miles.  
After two hours, I was in the back with Mandarin. We amused ourselves by pointing Ebony and Ivory at passing vehicles and giggling when they slowed down. When I moved back into the front I drove Trish crazy by tapping the sounds of "In the Garden of Eden" by Iron Butterfly on my chin.  
By the time three hours had passed, Trish was a dribbling pile of goo. I sat beside her with the heels of my palms against my mouth, practicing how to make flatulence noises. The fact that Mandarin was loudly singing "Cotton Eye Joe" in the back was not helpful for Trish's sanity either, I'm sure. 

...~... 

When we got to Battery Park, I bounded from the truck and stood tall, popping my spine back into place.  
Battery Park was a massive pseudo-city in itself. Multiple highways twisted and turned around us, the sound of cars and the stench of exhaust fumes saturated the air. I sneezed.   
We were in the parking lot of the Marina, overlooking the relatively serene Sandusky Bay. "Dante," whispered Trish in an awe-struck voice. I blinked and looked where she was pointing. There was a tall statue of a woman in the distance, holding a torch high. It was falling apart, slightly, and looked as though it had been repaired more than once. "She's beautiful isn't she?"  
"I guess...," I blinked, "Who is she?"  
"Lady Liberty, Dante. A M'an structure. One of the few that I enjoy looking at."  
Perhaps Trish had a thing for relics, but I was suddenly paying more attention to Mandarin who had taken off towards the piers. I shrugged and followed her. 

...~... 

It was Pier A that the Quilava led us to. This Pier had the unholy view of Mallet Island, a dark spot amidst churning, indigo waters in an otherwise tranquil landscape. Pier A was a few miles south of Battery Place. When I looked over my shoulder, I had a clear view of Trish's "Lady Liberty". It was, indeed, a beautiful statue. Her face was calm and looked across the ocean, welcoming men and women of all shapes, sizes, and species to our Shores of Freedom. M'an was indeed capable of making beautiful things. It was something of a pity that they were also so incredibly destructive and lacking in sound judgement. Since their day, however, Manhattan had changed very little in terms of geography. We, the Folk, just gave it a few minor alterations.  
The Myu, all business as usual, was patrolling up and down the Pier trying to find a boat for us to rent. She ended up talking to a silver-tipped, white Raichu with long, red hair. He had baggy blue jeans, a sleeveless black T-shirt and the most clever and devious green eyes I had ever seen.  
"A wife-beater," said Mandarin setting upon him with her analytical gaze. "Or a pot-smoker."  
"Yeah," I muttered, "Or all of the above. There is no way I'm riding in a boat that was once in that guy's possession. Ever."  
Trish looked towards us and waved us over. "Dante, Mandarin, come here."  
I hesitated.  
"NOW!"  
There was nothing more frightening than an angry Trish. Not like I had ever seen her happy or anything.  
She gestured towards the Raichu. "This young man ferries people from Battery Park to Mallet."  
"...Or Long Island," he added with a note of hope in his voice.  
The boat he stood in front of was about the seagoing equivalent of my truck. A regular adventure on wheels or a rudder as it were.  
"That thing floats?"  
"Dante," said Trish, "He can give us a ride to Mallet Island."  
"Haw!" croaked a voice from somewhere within the boat. The whole vessel shook as a Rhydon in army green cargo pants stomped up onto the deck, opening a can of beer. "We don't go to that place anymore, girlie!"  
The Raichu turned and looked up at his companion. "The Myu _is_ willing to pay a hefty sum of money, Bluto."  
Bluto harrumphed and leaned forward on the gunwale, rocking the boat. "I don't care if she paid us with all the gold in the National Treasury, I'm not goin' anywhere near that rock!" He pointed towards Mallet. "The last boat to go down there left with a crew of Meowth and returned with a crew of livin' puppets!"  
I blinked. The Raichu sighed and rubbed his brow bone.  
"Myu's Blood and Body, not this story again..."  
"'Tis true!" thundered the Rhydon, "Livin' puppets! Marionettes!"  
"Marionettes cannot move on their own," hissed the younger man, "Someone has to be pulling their strings."  
"Maybe someone was, Niiro," Bluto jabbed his thumb towards the Island. "Maybe someone was!"  
"I doubt it."  
The Raichu, who was apparently named Niiro, turned back to us as his companion took another swig of beer and disappeared below deck mumbling "I know what I saw..."  
"Sorry about Bluto," he said casually, flicking his tail. "I don't believe half the rubbish that comes out of his mouth even when he's sober. But...I must admit...there is something amiss on that Island. None of the Mariners will touch the place."  
"Yes," said Trish, "I intend to go there with my ...er...'associates' and put an end to the Darkness."  
"How do you intend to do that, exactly?"  
"Him," Trish pushed me forward. "This is Dante, the son of the Dark Knight Sparda, who, if you know your legends, is the one who sealed Mundus away two thousand years ago."  
"Hi," I waved. Niiro's eyes gleamed as he looked me over tip to tail. "Right. Pleasure, Mr. Sparda. I'm Niiro, the King of Wales."  
"Aye," Bluto leaned out a porthole window, "An' I'm the Queen of Florida!"  
Niiro frowned and half turned his head, refusing to even grace the Rhydon by looking at him directly. "Florida isn't a country."  
"I rule the state then....From the capitol city of Montpelier."  
"Tallahassee," growled Niiro. Then, after a moment he added, "Montpelier isn't even in Florida..."  
"Ya know what, guys?" Mandarin interrupted, "I don't think these two are taking us seriously."  
"Yeah," Trish turned and solemnly started to walk away. "Perhaps we should just fly to Mallet Island."  
"Dante can fly," announced the Quilava, "He did it a month ago. At the Flannigan Bachelor Party."  
"No, babe" I corrected her. "That was leaping...," I paused for effect, "with _style_!"  
"Listen," said Niiro, "We'll take you across. For the right cost of course. Come with us, will you?"  
Mandarin lifted her hands into the air, "WE DEFINATELY WILL....think about it. Bye, you penny-pinching a**holes!"  
And, on that note, our misfit party worked its way back to Battery Place.


	7. Chapter 6: The Ritz-Carlton Hotel

**Chapter 6: The Ritz-Carlton Hotel**

"The lounge of the main hotel is full of jollity, with large comfortable men sitting in braces; the bar is packed with talkative intellectuals, full of witty disloyalties.... The next week the main hotel is suddenly full of dinner-jackets and large hats. The girls are dressed as if for a weekend in the country.... When one of the great men of the party comes through, the crowd edges respectfully away, murmuring loyal noises."  
-Anthony Sampson 

If Neo Manhattan was its own organism, then the Ritz-Carlton was its symbiote. Indeed, Ritz-Carlton was a part of the city, but, at the same time it was a community set aside from the rest of Battery Park.   
Looking up at it, the Ritz-Carlton blended into the sky line. On occasion, someone would lean out of a window and watch the lights on the harbor. Everything seemed so serene.  
It wasn't until I actually stepped into the foyer that I felt terribly displaced.  
The tiled floor was waxed marble and reflected perfectly the images of the people who were gathered upon it, dressed in their finest and discussing exotic wines or the latest happenings on Wall Street. The design on the floor was the eternal symbol of the Ritz-Carlton chain; a crown with a lion emerging from its top, jaws parted and tongue lolling out with feline contentment. Above me, stretched the ceiling, which was simple and white-washed with a chandelier hanging over the main stairwell. The corners of the foyer held elegant, gold-painted Grecian pillars, the tops of which were carved into smiling cherubs that seemed to hold the ceiling aloft on their tiny wings.   
Trish seemed unfazed by any of this, she moved past the great windows overlooking the street and approached the front desk. An old Bulbasaur stood behind the mahogany structure, his blue eyes glinting beneath his glasses. As soon as the Myu arrived he started wringing his hands nervously and muttering under his breath.  
"I need a room," said Trish simply. The talking suits seemed to find this request strangely amusing and started laughing. Mandarin shot them a glare that failed entirely to quiet them down.  
"Lady," sighed the Bulbasuar, "you don't just request a room here. You need reservations..."  
She removed her glasses and lifted a hand sparkling with that painful but familiar energy that managed to nearly pin me with a motorcycle the night before, her voice dropped an octave or two into a deadly hiss. "You _will_ find my companions and I a room...DO YOU UNDERSTAND, MORTAL!?!?!"  
He gulped and hastily started typing something on the computer to his left, evidently attempting to locate a vacancy.  
A young Raichu standing beside me gestured towards Trish with a fancy leather briefcase. "Do you know that crazy woman?" I looked sternly into his amber eyes and said in the most serious way I could, "...No."  
The Bulbasaur bobbed up again and fumbled with an unnecessarily fancy bronze-colored card key. "Er...er...er....You're in luck! It seems that the McGavlicks made a last minute cancellation." At this a burly Blastoise rose from where he was sitting with his family by the window.   
"No we didn't!"  
"Bedroom A on the twenty-fourth floor...," the clerk passed the card key to Trish who accepted it with an eerie grin.  
"Do you have any bags?"  
"No."  
She turned and looked right at me. "Dante!"  
"...?..."  
"You left Ebony and Ivory in the truck, right?"  
I nodded dumbly and she grabbed Mandarin and headed straight for the elevator. I could feel the Raichu staring at me so I followed them hastily before he could make any sort of smart remark regarding my apparent familiarity with the "crazy woman".  
The elevator was rather cramped, holding myself, Trish, Mandarin and a pair of Espeons. The man gazed at me with an expression of open disgust on his face. My attire, I suppose, was not up to his standards.  
"What floor are you on?" asked his wife pleasantly. She was a tall, fair thing in a red slip dress.  
"Twenty four"   
"Oh...That's nice..."  
This was followed by a silence that somehow felt much less awkward than the brief exchange itself had.  
Mandarin crossed her arms over her chest and stared patiently at the bright numbers above the doors.  
"Fifteen, sixteen..."  
"So, young man," said the husband, "what line of work are you in?"  
"Uhh...," I rocked back on my heels, "I'm a paranormal investigator...you?"  
His eyes glazed and he leaned back. I was no longer worthy of his conversation.  
"Twenty-three, twenty-four!"  
The doors slid open and I stepped out as quickly as I could, feeling the eyes of the Espeon picking me apart the whole time. Mandarin and Trish walked out without so much as a word of goodbyes. The elevator continued its ascent.  
"I'm telling you, Trish...Motel Six would have suited me just fine..."  
"Shut up, Sparda-child"  
She walked down the velvety red carpet looking for the room that corresponded to the number on the card. I entertained myself by looking at the paintings on the walls as we went. One caught my eye, it was of a winged Myutsuu hovering in the air with an energy ball in his hand. He was gazing menacingly down at a small city. I blinked.  
"Dante!"  
"Huh?"  
Trish beckoned me towards a white door. "Dante, our room, come on!" She and Mandarin walked in and I followed at a trot.   
Our room was a marvel to behold. It had two beds with silky sheets, a ceiling fan and mahogany floors. A window on the wall perpendicular to the beds looked out over the harbor and Ellis Island. Connected to the room was a bathroom with a marble floor and a frameless, glass-enclosed shower. Everything smelled sweet, due both to air fresheners and the kitchen across the hall.  
"Spiffy," I sighed, "and I was starting to think that this place wasn't ostentatious enough."  
Mandarin and Trish each claimed a bed. The Myu was sprawled out, making it physically impossible for me to climb in with her. She opened the drawer on the night stand and withdrew a copy of the Neo Bible, which held religious texts of the Folk.  
"You people are incredible," she said with a sigh, "Do you honestly believe that the Gaia was created by Myutsuu blowing life into it?"  
I shook my head, "My theory has always leaned more towards the Cosmic Egg."  
"As has mine, Dante...As has mine..."  
Mandarin was curled to one side on her bed, already pretending to be asleep. I yawned, undid the clasps on my trench-coat and cast it unceremoniously aside. The Quilava sat up as I kicked off my boots and started to remove my vest.  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Hey, Dante, what are you doing?"  
"Getting undressed....why?"  
She rubbed her eyes and shook her head. "Nothing...I always thought that maybe we could get to know each other a little bit first...then I'd see you....strip..." The whole while she was talking I was removing my black, leather shirt. I cast that aside as well and stood in my bright red pants and white undershirt.  
I crawled into the bed next her. She squirmed a little bit, then gave up and held the blankets aside for me.  
"Thanks," I pulled them up to my chin and turned the light out on the night stand. In the darkness, I heard Trish growl. "I was reading, Devilboy..."  
"...."  
Something moved under the blankets; Mandarin's foot. She sat up and looked at Trish.   
"Trish?"  
"Dammit...What the hell is it?"  
"Do you have any boyfriends?"  
I could almost swear that Trish's eyes lit up in the dark, but it might have been the moon light coming in through the window.  
"...No. No men are attracted to me."  
"Well...," I hesitated, "Does your pick up line usually consist of throwing motorcycles at people?...Because most guys don't like that-"  
"At least not until their second date," Mandarin blurted out.  
"Shut up...both of you...," growled the Myu. "Go to sleep!" 

...~... 

The world was falling apart... 

Stones fell from the ceiling and bounced down along the cliff edge into the blazing flames below. I was completely alone... 

*Get off the Island...* 

Who...Who are you? 

*My child, my love...my brother....Get off the Island...* 

I do not understand... 

*Quickly...before He draws Gaia into the Inferno...* 

What? 

*Now, run!....Dante....Dante......Dante........* 

...~... 

"Dante! Dante!"  
Somebody was shaking me. I groaned and rolled to one side. Opening my eyes, I saw the shape of a Quilava above me. I lifted the heel of my palm to my forehead.  
"What time is it?"  
Mandarin glanced over her shoulder at the grandfather clock near the bathroom door.  
"Six AM"  
"What!?"  
Trish emerged from the bathroom, fixing her leather vest, beneath which she wore nothing. She blinked sleep from her eyes and yawned.  
"He's up," said Mandarin, scrambling away. The other looked less than thrilled at rising at this unholy hour.  
"....There is no Myu..."  
"Good morning to you too, Sunshine..."  
She stuck her middle finger up at me and tripped towards her knee-high boots.  
"Get dressed, Dante. We have to be at the Marina by seven thirty."  
"Why?"  
"Niiro is taking us to Mallet Island."


	8. Chapter 7: Arrival

****

Chapter 7: Arrival 

"Beyond this island bound  
By a thin sea of flesh  
And a bone coast ...."  
-Dylan Thomas 

We were booted from the Ritz-Carlton Hotel before we even had the chance to order breakfast that morning. Security demanded that Trish pay a $1000 fine for dealing emotional damage to a Bulbasaur and we were banned from ever going back. To this day, I am not sure what that meant, whether it was the single hotel or the entire chain.

Nevertheless, the boot gave my companions and I ample time to get to Pier A.

...~...

The water lapped soundly against the back of the old tub that Niiro called a motor boat. He was sitting at the bow, gazing out towards Mallet, as alert as a deer, his tail held erect behind him.  
Myself, I was leaning over the gunwale, looking into the sea. Occasionally I saw skeletons; nearly reptilian ones with their heads thrown back in drowned agony and their tails growing, not from their spines, but from the bases of their skulls. Their long arms ended in razor sharp claws. It seemed to me that they must have been able to move about in water when they were alive but had the genuine misfortune of swimming out here where there was a savage undertow.  
"Trish....what are they?"  
The Myu, who had been languidly resting in the sun upon the deck reading the local newspaper, _The Monarchia_, looked sharply up at me. "What are what, hon?"  
I blinked and sat back, "...Never mind." There was a plaque on the gunwale just above the seats, which held floatation devices within them. 

We run a tight ship here...of course, some of us have been getting tight a little too often. 

"...."  
With a sudden yell, Mandarin leapt from her seat beside me and hid behind Trish as a particularly annoying wave splashed her tail-flame. "I'm warning you, Dante!...If this is a sign of things to come..." the Quilava stared vinegar at me as if I was responsible for the water's behavior. I looked towards Mallet Island.  
We were growing close now. Crows were flocking around the highest spires of the castle cackling and screeching warnings to us. The morning sun rose over head and I noticed that its rays fell upon Neo Manhattan, reflecting off the windows of the many buildings and shining upon the sea. Mallet, however, was completely dark, bathed in shadow for all eternity.  
"How did we get suckered into this again?" I asked rhetorically.  
"'Suckered' is right," hissed Mandarin, "...And to think I could be watching TV right now."  
"Shut up and stop complaining!" snapped Trish. "Both of you, by Myu, do you two EVER STOP COMPLAINING!?!?!"  
"...No...," we chorused.  
It was then that I noticed how quiet it was. "Say...where's Bluto?"  
"Hiding," said Niiro from the leather-bound steering wheel. "Like a good Rhydon should..." 

...~... 

When we arrived upon the Island, it was with a skip and a bump over the rocky areas in the shallows. Niiro winced and folded back his silver-tipped ears. After a moment, he glanced over his shoulder at us and past him, I could see the shore. The cliffs rose as a natural defense, with a doorway hewn into them by the hands of the first Myutsuu. The door itself was massive, with a steel frame, bolted shut by a heavy wooden beam that could not be lifted by even the strongest Machamp in all of Neo Manhattan. Despite its age, it was not all that weathered. The top was a bit wind-beaten and barnacles grew upon the bottom but it seemed as though somebody tended it to it from time to time.  
"Hurry up!" snapped Niiro, snapping me from my reverie. Actually, no method of writing could express the way he said this...it was really more of a "Hurrup!" He did not switch the engine off for us; he would not stay any longer than was absolutely necessary.  
Trish stretched and picked up the cane and Force Edge from underneath a heap of rope. With a grin, she tossed me the sword and Mandarin the cane.  
"Take these. You'll need them."  
"I still don't know why we-"  
She smiled and held a finger to my lips.  
"...Shut up and let's go so these fine gentlemen can be on their way, okay, hon?"  
Without waiting for a reply, the strange Myu jumped over the side of the boat and waded to the shore.  
".....Damn...."  
I followed her with Mandarin in my wake. The Quilava stepped lightly through the water only to get splashed as Niiro pulled out of the shallows and sped off towards Neo Manhattan, in a hurry to leave this place behind him.  
"GAAAAAAH!!!!"  
Trish sauntered up to the gate and examined it through her shrewd eyes.  
"Nice..."  
Mandarin hugged the cane and looked up at me with a fearful expression. "Nii-Nii-Niiro left us....HE LEFT US!!!"  
I put a hand on her shoulder. "We'll be okay, babe."  
Trish snorted at this and gestured towards me. "Dante do something about this door."  
"Like what?"  
"Open it!"  
"Why? It's nice just looking at the door..."  
"OPEN THE FRIGGIN' DOOR!!!"  
"Okay, okay." I walked up to the massive wooden beam latch. It was about ten inches thick; I would not be able to lift....So I did the next best thing. Lifting Force Edge above my head, I took aim, prayed to Myu, then struck. The blade got lodged in the wood. Beautiful. I wrapped my hands around the jeweled hilt, placed my feet against the door and pulled for all that I was worth. Which evidently was not that much. Trish wrapped her arms around my waist and pulled with me.  
"Good grief, and I thought Demons were supposed to be-YARGH!"  
The sword came loose and Trish and I were sent sprawling backwards into the shallows with a rendering splash. I landed on top of her.  
"Aw, Trish. I didn't know you cared..."  
"Eat me."  
We pulled ourselves upright and I promptly went about wringing the water out of my long coat.   
"Are we gonna go?"  
Mandarin's voice intruded into my temporarily silent existence. She stood there, holding the beam in one hand. The door was open and she noticed the stare I was giving her.  
"...What? Is there something on my face?" The Quilava rubbed her cheek with her free hand.  
"H...H...How did you-"  
Trish stormed past me, through the gate. Beyond it was a path, leading along the cliff face into a door to the Castle Keep. It was lined with granite statues and a small foot bridge stretched over it to a tiny watchtower that looked out over the sea. The Gulf Stream used to carry many vessels this way before ships were installed with engines. It must have kept guards on a constant patrol.  
"The Castle of Mundus is at the top of this cliff," Trish looked up along the path. To its left was another ledge stretching about fifty feet above us. At its top I could see the shadows of the castle towers.  
"Come on! Hurry!"  
The Myu jumped straight up...and up...and up...grabbed the ledge and hoisted herself up to the courtyard. Her tail flicked, then she was gone, vanished from my line of sight.  
"Tell me that that didn't just happen!" Mandarin demanded. "Tell me she didn't just jump fifty feet straight into the air..."  
I glanced sidelong at her, "I can jump high too...think I could manage?"  
"Fifty bucks says you can't"  
"You're on!"  
I drew back a few steps and jumped at the cliff. With my Demon abilities I was able to jump very high. I got about twenty or so feet and smacked face first in the rock in the most Wile E. Coyote type of fashion.  
"...Ow..."  
I slid to the ground, crumpling at Mandarin's feet. She looked towards the Castle Keep and summed up my feelings in three words.  
"....We're gonna die..."


	9. Chapter 8: Curse of the Bloody Puppets

****

Chapter 8: Curse of the Bloody Puppets 

"We are only puppets, our strings are being pulled by unknown forces."  
-Georg Büchner 

Mandarin and I had been sitting on the steps of the Castle Keep for several hours with our chins in our hands. Both of us were too afraid to enter, neither of us had the gall to admit it.  
The sun was high overhead, bathing everything in noon light.   
Everything, that is, except Mallet Island . The highest towers had wide structures around their peaks crafted from stone and sheet metal like umbrellas. I could suddenly see it in my mind's eye...I could see Mundus patrolling New Island, having his "Pocket Monster" Clones gathering bricks and building this castle. Behind him, a golden Myutsuu with a monocle. My father.

"This, Sparda, is my fortress. From here, all the greatest plans in the world will be made."  
Mallet Island, the Castle of Mundus. An architectural phenomenon bathed within its own shadow.  
"Yo, Danny!"  
I looked up at Mandarin, slightly annoyed at being interrupted from doodling in the dust with Force Edge. She was gazing rather intently over her shoulder into the darkness of the stone arch that led into the Keep.  
"Yeah?"  
"Are you going in?"  
".....Yeah."  
As I said this I made no motion to rise. I continued to stare ahead of me at a statue of a Sentret some ten or so feet back down the path. Her eyes were lifted towards the sky as if in prayer and her hands were outstretched. In her fingertips was an agonized face carved from yellow amber. Amber was fossilized tree sap; it could preserve ancient things in a nearly life-like pose. It came as no surprise, therefore, that people used to believe it brought life after death.  
"This place may have been beautiful if it was so damn creepy..."  
I waited for a response from Mandarin...but it never came. Glancing beside me, I found that she was no longer there.  
"Mandarin!?"  
I jumped to my feet and ran into the Castle Keep. Sure enough, there was the Quilava, her eyes focused upwards.  
"Dante, I don't know about-"  
Both of us were interrupted by the loud sound of stone grinding against stone. I whipped around to see the impossible sight of the wall closing in on its self, barring our only known exit.  
The Island did not want us to leave.   
I could feel my heart hammering a tattoo into my breast as I backed into Mandarin, gazing at our surroundings.  
We were in the Hall of Mundus, the main chamber of the Castle Keep. It was circular in shape with a brace of balconies tiered upwards and stretching over half of the circumference of the room. They were interrupted in the middle by a twenty-foot tall statue of a Myutsuu. He had shoulder-length hair and a pair of great, feathered wings folded across his back. His left hand was raised and in it burned an eerie blue flame. I was standing just to the lower left of the statue and as I moved I quickly found that the Myutsuu's eyes were carved in such a fashion that they seemed to follow me from one place to another; always looking right at me no matter where I stood. Stairs, decorated with a soft red carpet, rose up towards the statue, branching off to either side and leading to the lower balcony. While the case leading up to the left side of the balcony was still intact, time had not been as gentle to the other half. It had crumbled beneath the weight of its age and could no longer be used.   
Mandarin and I walked past the rubble of the right staircase and saw another statue. This one was built in front of the main stairs. It depicted a Charizard warrior mounted on the back of a rearing Rapidash. His teeth were bared menacingly and in his claws he brandished aloft a pole arm. A copper plaque, green now with age, was left upon its base. It read- 

In the honor of our victory over the Hyuumans at the Battle of the Bay of Fundi 

Mandarin strolled away from my side to investigate a jade-inlaid double door with a pair of ivory knights engraved on each side. It was locked. She shrugged and moved towards the red door immediately before me. This one, too, seemed locked.  
"Beautious," she growled, "We're trapped in a room with no way out."  
"That's redundant, Mandarin."  
"What?"  
"...Never mind."  
I walked up to the door and placed my palm upon it. It was cool and clammy to the touch. Suddenly, I heard voices...whispering softly...   
"..._Here he comes...Child of Sparda_......."   
I pulled my hand away as quickly as I could and the whispers grew louder until I could see suffering and pained, ghostly faces flickering across the door. They pooled together and reached out to me with a deafening moan, manifesting themselves into a single, great hand, groping for help.  
I screamed as the fingers of the hand wrapped around me, sending an icy cold sensation of pins and needles through my entire body.   
"..._Help us_..."   
The hand released me and I fell backwards into Mandarin's waiting arms. She stared at me with a look of incredulity then averted her gaze to the problematic door.  
"What in the name of Myu have we gotten ourselves into?" she growled. I slowly pried myself from her grasp and approached the spirits of the door.  
"How? How do I help you!?"  
There was no response.   
The Quilava, who had the subtlety of a sledge hammer, parted her jaws and from them came the churning fires of a Flamethrower attack. She continued the onslaught until the spirits fled from the door with the sound of shattering glass.  
Mandarin grinned smugly and walked through the door into the next room. With a sigh for things to come, I followed her.  
The next room was small, with a raised portculis in the back, just opposite us. Flanking the wall to our right were suits of armor and there was a door to the left, leading further into the Castle Keep. Aside from the door, there was nothing else that seemed worthy of attention. Not yet, anyway.  
The door led us into a spiral stairwell leading upwards through the Keep tower. Mandarin and I followed its twists and turns until we reached the first exit to our left. Any further progress was denied to us by a heap of rubble blocking the stairs so we went into the adjoining chamber.   
It looked like it might have been a study at one time. An old bookcase lay against one wall with a life-sized marionette lying at its base. The puppet was beautiful piece of craftsmanship, really, clad in blues and greens.  
Strewn about the floor were pieces of a desk and the occasional stray vial. I was examining the marionette when Mandarin's voice shattered the silence. She was perched on the bookshelf, poking her head up through a huge, gaping hole in the ceiling. She seemed overjoyed.  
"Dante!" she cried, "There's...like...stuff up here!"  
I jumped up and scrambled on top of the bookcase beside her.   
"Damn you, you can't make this easy, can you?"  
I popped my head up. The room above us was probably a dining room for the Keep Guards. A big table was lying up against a boarded-up window. Bookcases were lined up directly in front of us and the door that led into the stairwell was blacked with rubble. Standing beside the door was another marionette. This one was red with a white half-mask. It's face bowed towards a rusted key in its hand.  
"Hey, do you think that key opens the jade door?" I asked.  
"Uh....No."  
I crawled from the hole and sauntered up to the marionette. As I drew closer I became aware of an odor of blood emanating from it. Could its clothes have been died with-  
I reached out and snatched the key. It was heavy and about six inches long. With a shrug, I turned back to Mandarin. She had ducked away again into the room below. I walked towards the hole and stopped dead in my tracks when a blade lodged itself into the bookcase beside me.  
"Akh!" I spun on my heals and saw the bloody marionette poised with its hand towards me.  
"Did you just throw that!?"  
Much to my surprise, it leaned back and nodded. It spoke to me in a hissing voice.  
"Yeah. You took my key. I like that key. It's special to me."  
I backed up and sat down on the table, waving my tail. The creature dragged itself forward and sat next to me.  
"I'm Shatter Glass," it said, "The Bloody Mari, leader of the Marionettes. Can I have my key?"  
"Shatter Glass?"  
"Yeah?"  
"I'm Dante. The son of the Dark Knight Sparda."  
Shatter Glass shrugged in an "oh well" type of fashion.  
"I really should be killing you about now."  
"I know."


	10. Chapter 9: Friends in the Midst of Chaos

****

Chapter 9: Friends in the Midst of Chaos  
  
"Friends are like fiddle strings, they must not be screwed too tight."  
-English Proverb  
  
Shatter Glass politely went on to explain to me that he and his legions of puppets were the lowest but most heavy population of creatures in the womb of Mundus' castle. When he inquired as to my presence I said that I was there to find someone named Trish, which, at the moment, was mostly true. The fact that I was there to kill his boss somehow failed to be mentioned. Shatter Glass accused me of being a Sparda and thereby a threat to his very existence. I assured him that I was harmless. He told me to go stick my head in the open maw of a Lickitung. I told him that the thing rapidly approaching the side of his head was a Fire Punch. Shatter Glass had no opportunity to respond as he crumpled to the floor.  
I looked at Mandarin. The Quilava was unleashing a rather impressive stream of profanities and rubbing her knuckles.  
"Dammit!" she yowled, "I never want to have to do that again!"  
"Right. Are we gonna try this thing on the Jade Door?"  
I held up the rusty key. She rolled her eyes and snorted, steam poured from her nostrils.  
"Oh. Right. That."  
Without even so much as a "let's go", she pivoted where she stood and jumped through the hole in the floor. A rendering, splintering crash from the innocent bookshelf heralded her descent to the floor below. I scrambled down through the hole and landed feet first amidst a heap of books. Half of the bookshelf was destroyed by Mandarin's none-too-graceful leap. Just my luck that it was the part of the shelf that had allowed us to climb upwards in the first place. I hoped that I would not have to find another means of access into the above room any time soon.  
Directly beneath the heels of my boots, and a few copies of _History of Shadowdale_ was the Marionette I had seen earlier. To my horror and Mandarin's disgust it was moving. The creature flailed its arms helplessly beneath me.  
"Gitoff!" it crowed, "I am a shervent of Mundush!"  
"I kinda like you better down there, though."  
It gave up and laid still. I hopped down from the heap of books and broken pieces of wood and followed Mandarin down the winding staircase into the Hall of Mundus.  
  
The Hall greeted us with stale silence. Even our own footsteps across the claret carpet and the sounds of our breathing seemed echo off the walls and clang in our ears like metal bells.  
Mandarin took the key from me and attempted to jam it into the lock of the Jade Door. An expression of anger mixed with a look of annoyance and bitterness etched itself across her face as she attempted to badger the keyhole into submission.   
"I don't think this is the right key!" she bugled.  
"Uhm...try turning it to the left?"  
She did and a satisfying click was heard. I smiled. She threw the key at me and pulled open the double doors and stormed through.  
The next room seemed to me to be perfectly misplaced. Racks of javelins and other pole-arms were crammed in each corner and the swaying shadows of Marionettes danced across the floor. Looking up, I saw a bunch of them, hanging, lifeless, from the ceiling by their strings. And below them was the single most prominent feature of the room: an old airplane. The plane had duel wings, a machine-gun that looked significantly out of place upon it and two wheels. The whole thing rested against wooden support struts. It might have been some breed of a Sparrowhawk fighter, but I don't know my airplanes. What irritated me was that this room was in the heart of the Castle Keep. It had no windows. How could somebody have forced an airplane into this room? And, more importantly, why would anybody have bothered?  
There was a door in the wall adjacent to where I stood. The phantasms that I had encountered earlier flickered across it and I heard their moaning voices in my mind.   
  
"_The Puppets are our masters..._"  
  
My eyes twitched.  
"What's up?" Mandarin asked as she moved towards a small alcove.  
"Nothing, not a thing." I sauntered up behind her. The alcove was flanked by a brace of armored suits that seemed to be guarding a large, circular crest with runes lining its border.  
"What it in the name of Lady Mew is THAT!?"  
I shrugged at Mandarin's note of disgust. "How should I know." Looking down, I realized that we were standing on a similarly shaped crest.  
"What is this? Some kind of elevator?"  
"No," said Mandarin, "if it was an elevator, there'd be a switch."  
"Maybe those are switches?" I pressed the runes. Nothing.   
"Here, let me try!" Mandarin pressed the same runes.  
"DAMMIT!" I thundered, "WORK!" I pulled out Force Edge and struck the damn thing as hard as I could. The runes lit up, the alcove shook and the crest beneath me and Mandarin started grinding downwards. The two of us flailed around hopelessly for a moment, teetered, then plunged over the side and landed in the room below with a heavy thud that sent Force Edge flying from my hands.  
We lay stunned as the elevator continued its decent behind us.  
"That was stupid," said Mandarin.  
"Yeah. Where's my sword?"  
"Here it ish"  
"Thanks a bunch, I-AHCK!"  
The hands that lifted the blade back towards my fingertips belonged to a Marrionette. As I rose, I noticed that I was in a circular room and dozens of other Marionettes, all perfectly identical, were emerging from the wooden doors on the walls. Behind the doors were alcoves no bigger than closets.  
"You are Dante Shparda, correct?" asked the one that had given me back Force Edge.  
"No. I'm Guybrush Threepwood, mighty pirate."  
"He liesh! Him be a Shparda! I can shee the reshemblanshe!"  
By this time I was surrounded on all sides. With a cry, I swung Force Edge and severed someone's head. Mandarin was already up beside me, blowing Flamethrowers left and right.  
The room became Chaos. I hacked blindly at the puppets before me, and screamed as their throwing blades sliced past my thighs and hummed by my ears. In the background were high-pitched howls of lament as various Marionettes charged across my field of vision waving their fiery limbs until they hit a wall and collapsed into a pile of ash.  
One Marionette in particular managed to elude me. It flanked the walls and tossed blades at us. I leapt backwards, sprung off a wooden door and flew across the room, tackling it into the elevator, which, sensing my presence and my foe's, promptly started rising. It wailed and clawed at my ears as we moved upwards, stumbled from the alcove and rolled to a final stop beneath the Sparrowhawk's left wheel. I bashed its head against the underside of the plane until it struggled no longer.  
Once I killed it, the other Marrionettes who had been hanging from the ceiling, descended. Much to my surprise, they were incinerated before they ever had the chance to hit the floor.  
Mandarin stood off to the side, smoke coming from her lips.  
I jabbered.  
"Wh-how-how did you get up here-"  
"The stairs"  
I rolled my eyes and paced over to the door. With the Marionettes gone, the spirits had dispersed and it opened without protest. Sticking my head through, I saw that there was a door immediately across from me and that the hallway between me and it plunged into darkness at my right. Creatures moved between the shadows as if they were a part of them, each one carrying a scythe, their faces hidden beneath masks. It was really just going to be one of those days. Danger, literally, at every turn.  
There was no way I could walk down that hall without being attacked by these specter-like creatures. Not unless there was something I could do to distract them....  
I smiled over my shoulder.  
"Hey, Mandarin. How are ya doing, babe?"  
"Not very well, I suspect...."  



	11. Chapter 10: Judge of Death

****

Chapter 10: The Judge of Death  
  
"...a sword of lightning, ever unsheathed, which consumes the scabbard that would contain it."  
-Percy Bysshe Shelley   
  
Mandarin's screams echoed down the stone hall as she plunged deeper into the Keep, luring the scissors-wielding spirits away. Every now and then, her cries were interrupted with profanities or with bitter promises to rip the head off a certain black Myutsuu when she got the chance. Then, her voice was receding into the distance. Going. Going. Gone.  
All of this noise irritated some of the proper residents of the Keep, namely a trio of marionettes. They stepped out of the wooden door opposite to me and looked around. Nothing seemed out of place...except me.  
This small group's apparent leader, a tall fellow with a jester's cap and pleated green outfit looked at me and hissed, "What wash all of that noishe jusht now?"  
"No clue."  
He looked me over with the same eyes one gave a door-to-door salesman. "Hmm...," he jabbed my chest with a wooden finger. "I've never sheen you around here, boy! What are you doing here!?"  
"I, uh.....," I looked around. "I'm...selling these snazzy red trench coats!"  
This seemed to pique his curiosity. "Really? How much are they?"  
"Weeelll, they're-"  
I bolted down the hall. The next room over must have been a circular courtyard because the hall had a distinct leftward curve to it. Paintings hung on the walls between the buttresses and blurred past me as I ran. I passed the doors that must have led into the courtyard and ran up three steps to a landing area and turned to see that the fellow in green was quickly covering the distance between us. A bit behind him was the other two. How was I supposed to ward them off?  
I looked down at the faded red carpet. 

The carpet! Exactly!  
Taking a lesson from Saturday morning cartoons, I stepped backwards off the carpet and grabbed the edge. A swift, downward movement of my arms caused a ripple-effect along the carpet that threw the lead Marionette backwards and into his comrades.  
Interesting, though. I never thought that the laws of physics could permit that.  
I turned and looked at the landing. It was simple with a suit of armor against the left wall and a door. The most prominent figure here, however, was a marble statue at the far end of the short hall, illuminated by the sky light above it. The statue was of a Zapdos, leaned to one side with a sword through its chest.  
I padded down the hall to get a better look. The detail was amazing. The Zapdos's beak was opened in a shout of pain and its talons seemed to be gouging the pedestal. The sword itself did not appear to be a part of the statue. It had a glistening silver blade and a hilt carved from ebony in the likeness of a Dragonite's opened maw, with Zapdos wings for a cross tree.  
A voice spoke into the back of my mind.  
  


__

The weak shall give their heart and swear their eternal loyalty to me!  
  
The sword suddenly came loose from the statue and flew through the air. I blinked.  
I blinked again and found that I was lying on my back and looking at the statue. It had turned to rubble the moment the sword leapt from it, revealing a carving of a skeletal creature behind it with a groove for inserting some kind of scepter. It took one more such blink to discover that the sword was running straight through my chest and pinning me against the floor. My blood had streaked the silver blade with crimson and each time my heart beat the blade was baptized in a fresh outpour of blood. My vision blurred. I felt no pain; I was just in shock and feeling tired. So. Very. Tired. My fingers twitched.  
Dying.  
I was dying.  
Going to die.  
Voices.  
  
_Gosh, Alastor, I can't help but feel that you've just done something awful...  
  
I feel the same way.  
  
Maybe you can make up for it by helping the poor thing.  
  
Uhm....  
  
Hey you two! What are you doing!?  
  
Crap! It's Houoh! Let's get outta here!_  
  
Suddenly, sparks flew from the blade and electricity snaked along it into my body, causing the muscles along my spine to convulse and I felt gravity become reversed. I rose up along the blade, streaking it with blood and bit my lip at the sensation of my insides being torn up by the cross-tree.  
Then it was over. I was kneeling on the ground with blood trickling from my breast and my eyes squeezed shut. Each time I inhaled, I felt a tightness across my chest, the feeling increased until it became unbearable and I opened my eyes, looked down.  
The wound had healed over. I could feel that the insides of my body had grown back together as well. I had...healed? After being impaled!? What was I!?  
I drew myself upright and looked at the sword, still sticking in the floor. Electricity was wrapped around its blade and the hilt almost seemed to grin at me invitingly. I reached out my hand and felt the numbing effect of static as I wrapped my fingers around the leather-bound hilt. With one swift movement, I yanked it out of the floor. The feeling that hit me at that moment was remarkable, like Arthur must have felt when he pulled Excalibur loose from the stone.   


The air around the blade hummed with electrical energy as I swung it around. The electricity arched away from the sword and into me, stimulating my muscles and allowing my movements to be executed with double the normal speed. I had never felt more alive! I was drunk with this power. I spun, whirling like a dervish and thrusting at invisible foes. Then, I lifted the sword into the air and looked up through the sky light. The sky became overcast in gray like film over the scales of a dead Remoraid. Clouds gathered and darkened and released a lightning bolt that was drawn through the sky light with a rendering crash, shattering the glass and sending shards everywhere with a ringing sound. The lightning bolt struck the blade and ran through it, into me and I cried out as I felt a presence, a spirit, follow the flow of the bolt into my mind. I groaned and lowered the sword.  
The electrical dance was over and the clouds parted once again. I could feel the spirit of the sword inside me, sleeping in the back of my mind, ready to awaken whenever I was in the heat of battle.  
  
_I am Alastor and I shall lend my services to the powers of the Light and of the Land, so long as this be needed. Dost that help thee aught?_  
  
I slid the new sword into my backstrap and looked sullenly at the Force Edge, still lying in the scabbard at my hip alongside the holsters for Ebony at my left and Ivory at my right. At this rate, I'd run out of room for weapons long before I ever got to Mundus.  
The doors beside the suit of armor parted and Mandarin stumbled out. Her pantleg was torn and her mohawk was in disarray. She sneered at me.  
"Never, _ever_ MAKE ME DO THAT AGAIN!" she regained some poise, "...Okay?"  
A strange look crossed her bruised face. "Dante, you look you've seen a ghost."  
I stared blankly at her, everything was a blur and I was suddenly suffering from a diminished sense of reality. I pointed over my shoulder at the sword.  
"...It's name is Alastor...Mandarin...I think there's a spirit inside of me..."  
She looked me up and down as though I had just grown a second head. "Oookay. Ya know what, Danny-boy, I'm gonna go back into the Library now. I hope you and your little imaginary friend have a great time!"  
She was about to duck back through the doors but I stopped her.  
"Mandarin," I said, "Does this whole thing feel...surreal?"  
She shrugged and smiled at me. "Feels like a video game," she said.  
I shook my head, "No it doesn't...I mean...running through a haunted castle and hacking up monsters? It's...," I smiled, "Okay, it's exactly like a video game."  
Mandarin grinned slyly, "Dante, when this whole thing is over, we should write it down and sell it to Capcom!"  
"Yeah," I laughed, "Those idiots will buy anything!"  
"Now Dante," she said seriously, "They're a source of quality entertainment and games too."  
We snickered.  
"Yeah, right!"  
We laughed and our voices echoed off the walls.

  
  



End file.
